


Experiment with Dreams

by wintersorchid



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Dreams and Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 06:31:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3477953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintersorchid/pseuds/wintersorchid





	Experiment with Dreams

Experiment with dreams

MAJOR WARNING FOR DEATH, GORE, MURDER, THE HOLOCAUST/ WW2, AND NIGHT TERRORS

Fog hung thick and heavy over the uneven fields, cold against Ludwig's skin as he charged forward, following and followed by other soldiers. As he ran, the fog seemed to get thicker and thicker, and the sounds of the other men - the soft clink of their gear, the rattle of their weapons, the squish of their boots - faded until he could only hear himself. His breath caused the fog to swirl out in front of him and as he turned in a slow circle, he realized that he was lost.

"Hello?" he called out, facing the direction he thought he had been going in originally. "Hello?"

No one answered him.

Ludwig continued forward, the uneven soft ground slowly becoming more and more wet until he was wading in putrid, ankle deep water which was soon up to his knees, then waist. Holding his gun over his head, he waded through the water, feeling out carefully in front of himself with each foot before he put it down firmly in the muck.

The fog was still thick and cold, but the water was uncannily warm. Mysterious things floated under the surface, bumping against him with more frequency the further he went.

It was too quiet.

Not even the water made any noise as he plodded forwards, constantly running into the strange shapes. Further on, he could barely see shapes breaking the water and as he reached the first one, he was horrified to realize it was a body. Thin with bones practically breaking free of the papery skin, it floated face down, bobbing in the small ripples he created.

With a shudder, he pushed the emaciated soldier aside with a silent apology. All these boys, all these men, all these hopes and dreams for a better life after the war, all destroyed because of him.

The bumps turned into more bodies and the fog grew thicker. He could barely see where he was going, but he kept going. Past soldiers with varying uniforms and skeletal bodies with bloated stomachs in stripped clothing. They were all his fault.

He already knew how this dream ended, but there was no way for him to wake up before the screaming and gasping for air as panic set in.

A hand clutched at his clothes and a body hauled themselves up, wheezing at him, complaining that he didn't love his children, his Germans, enough. That he had let them all die, die, die...

"That's not true," he tried to explain. "I did my best."

"Lies," the bodies moaned, more of them floating to him until he was surrounded by a floating mass of them. Squaring his shoulders, he pushed through, gun long forgotten where it sank to the bottom of the bloody waters.

Their calls and wailing followed him to the shores, and no matter how often he had this dream, he could never remember enough of it to recall climbing up the mountain of bodies in a frenzied panic, of sliding down one side in a tangle of limbs, short of breath and in hysterics.

He could remember the next part, of being shoved from behind onto a cracked and dusty street. The other allies crowded around him and as England gripped his arm, Germany knew what was coming next.

"For crimes against humanity and against your fellow nations-" A tearing sound from his left and a cry of pain from Russia pulling him apart almost down the middle - "You will be divided up to be governed until such a time as you can govern yourself."

The others moved in now and despite his anguished cries, he could feel them digging into his body, tearing out what they believed to be their share of his organs and bones--

He woke with a gasp for air, certain his lungs were gone, ripped from his body with cold, uncaring hands in the name of justice and he turns into his partner's back, holding them as tightly as he can even when they wake to protest the rough hug.

"It's nothing. Just a dream. Go back to sleep. I'll make us some eggs tomorrow, not the hard boiled ones, I know you hate those." Stroking the soft hair, he continued over any protests.

"Maybe tea instead of coffee, yeah? It'll wake us up more slowly and maybe we'll sleep in, I'd like that. We could finally get a break and I'll walk the dogs later when I go out for more flour for bread."

Another kiss and he lay back down, breathing almost regulated. "I know I'd like that."

His chest still hurt along the dividing scars though they were long faded.


End file.
